Ha, ha, hoo, hoo
Thought you'd get the money too
Greedy motherfuckers (you want some earnings and stuff?)
Try to have their cake and eat it too (yes, ma'am)
(Son of a gun)
(Son of a gun)
You are such a romantic hero
The way you dress and look yourself over
(It's no wonder you would ponder that image
Of your preening self in the mirror (go on)

Sharp-shooter into breakin' hearts
Baby gigolo, a sex pistol
Hollerin' at everything that walks (uh)
No substance, just small talk
Now why you're feelin' on that girl's behind
You got a sleazy, one track mind
And workin' your back until you think you'll find
Who's goin' home with you tonight?

Oh, who you gonna give it to?
Who you gonna steal from?
Who's your next victim?
Oh, who you gonna lie to?
Who you gonna cheat on?
Who you gonna leave alone?
Oh, what you gonna tell her after she discovers
You don't really love her?
Oh, it's gonna be a showdown, knock down, drag out
Gun slingin', shoot 'em up

I bet you think this song is about you
I bet you think this song is about you (I bet you)
I bet you think this song is about you (yeah, yeah)
I bet you think this song is about you
Don't you, don't you, don't you?

Ha, ha, hoo, hoo
Thought you'd get the money too
Greedy motherfuckers
Try to have their cake and eat it too
(Son of a gun)
You tell 'em, Carly
Clouds in my coffee (go on)
Clouds in my coffee
Ha, ha, hoo, hoo
Thought you'd get the money too
Greedy motherfuckers
Try to have their cake and eat it too

Sweatin' me but I'm not your type (no)
You think you irkin' me and you're so right
I'd rather keep the trash and throw you out
Stupid bitch in my beach house
No, I ain't gon' go and act a fool
And be the lead story on nigga news
Never me, sucker, I'd never be your lover
I'd rather make you suffer, you stupid motherfucker

Oh, who you gonna give it to?
Who you gonna steal from?
Who's your next victim?
Oh, who you gonna lie to?
Who you gonna cheat on?
Who you gonna leave alone?
Oh, what you gonna tell her after she discovers (uh)
You don't really love her?
Oh, it's gonna be a showdown, knockdown, drag out
Gun slingin', shoot 'em up

I bet you think this song is about you
I bet you think this song is about you
I bet you think this song is about you (yeah, yeah)
I bet you think this song is about you
Don't you, don't you, don't you?

Ha, ha, hoo, hoo
Thought you'd get the money too
Greedy motherfuckers
Try to have their cake and eat it too (let's dance)

You tell 'em, Carly (uh)
(Clouds of various shapes and sizes)
(Most guys like to evaluate their prizes) alright now
(We come with so many different tricks)
(The apricot scarf was worn by Nick)
(Nothing in the words refer to Mick)

Got a chip upon your shoulder, I just knocked it off
Show me what you're gonna do, I ain't 'bout to run
You have just run out of ammunition (I'm storm cloud, baby)
Shootin' blanks now, you son of a gun (you can roll like thunder all over me)

Oh, who you gonna give it to?
Who you gonna steal it from?
Who's your next victim?
Oh, who you gonna lie to? (No, no, no, no, no)
Who you gonna cheat on? (It's not what you say)
Who you gonna leave alone? (It's what you do)
Oh (you're so vain, go on)
What you gonna tell her after she discovers (you probably think this song is about you)
You don't really love her?
Oh, it's gonna be a showdown (don't you, don't you, don't you)
Knockdown, drag down (don't you)
Gun slingin', shoot 'em up (don't you?)

I bet you think this song is about you
I bet you think this song is about you (yeah, yeah, yeah)
I bet you think this song is about you (I bet you)
I bet you think this song is about you
I bet you think this song is about you (don't you?)
I bet you think this song is about you (I bet you)
I bet you think this song is about you
I bet you think this song is about you
Don't you, don't you, don't you?

I bet you think this song is about you
I bet you think this song is about you (yeah, yeah, yeah)
I bet you think this song is about you (I bet you)
I bet you think this song is about you
Don't you, don't you, don't you?

I'm gone
(Son of a gun)
Go on
Janet and me, thick as thieves
Never met yet but I'll venture a bet
There's a common threat to our common dream (tell 'em, Carly)
And if it wasn't for that damned cream
There'd be no clouds in my coffee (talk to 'em, come on)
clouds in my coffee
Who do you think you are, Rambo?
Or a cumulonimbus capillatus or a cirrus or an altostratus?
Somebody to make somebody like me proud (you tell 'em, Carly)
In the encyclopedia of clouds? (Alright now)
No, no, no, no
It's not what you say, it's what you do
You're so vain (go on)
You probably think this song is about you
You tell 'em, Carly
probably think this song is about you
Don't hurt 'em now
Yeah, you probably think this song is about you
That's my girl
Is about you (go on)
Is about you (go on)
You probably think this song is about you
(You son of a gun)

(Son of a gun)
(Son of a gun)
(Son of a gun)


Lyrics submitted by shut

Son of a Gun (I Betcha Think This Song Is About You) Lyrics as written by James Samuel Iii Harris Carly E Simon

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, JANET JACKSON DBA BLACK ICE, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

Lyrics powered by LyricFind

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